


Favourite Parts of the Day

by Icka M Chif (mischif)



Category: Green Eggs and Ham (Cartoon)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Future, Asexuality, Blanket Permission, Drunken Shenanigans, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Morning After, Morning Cuddles, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22775899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mischif/pseuds/Icka%20M%20Chif
Summary: “You said last night, that you’d never known that a person could be home before.” Guy said quietly. “And I realised that you were right. I could wake up in a thousand different places on a thousand different mornings, and they’d all be home, as long as it’s alongside you.”Aka 'Sam and Guy wake up married and freak out about it for completely different reasons'.
Relationships: Guy Am I/Sam I Am (Green Eggs and Ham)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 133





	Favourite Parts of the Day

* * *

Waking up in the morning was Sam’s second favourite part of the day. 

Maybe not precisely today, his head was pounding and his mouth was dryer than that one time he’d licked a sheet of dryer lint. His body ached like he’d been doing something not well thought out again, and he kind of needed to pee. 

But… Sam peeked open an eye to find Guy’s slumbering face above him, his breathing soft and shallow. 

Guy had a _lot_ to do with why it waking up was his second most favourite part of the day. Sam smiled to himself, feeling the line of warmth along his back, the way his blanket moved. Pressing his lips together in amusement, he slowly began to ease his way out of Guy’s grasp, as if to climb out of the bed they were sharing. 

Guy first let out a soft whine, which lowered into a deeper almost possessive growl, as he shifted his grip and pulled Sam tight against him, trapping Sam face-first against his larger bulk and nuzzling the top of Sam’s head. 

Which brought Sam to his _absolutely_ number one favourite part of the day, snuggling with Guy before he woke up. He pressed his head against the soft fur of Guy’s chest, his day already looking better than a few minutes ago. 

He could slip out of bed unnoticed if he wanted, and he’d loads of times before. But every time he did, Guy would let out that lost whine and reach around the bed, trying to find his cuddle-buddy. 

Putting a pillow in his arms wouldn’t work either, Guy would wake up, all blurry eyed and sleepily confused, looking around for Sam, and there was no getting him back to sleep after that. Well, not unless Sam joined him again before Guy woke up enough to be verbal. 

Which Sam had no problems doing. They’d given up sleeping apart years ago, one bed being cheaper than two, and the feeling of snuggling with Guy never grew old. They could do this until they were both ancient and grey and he still didn’t think he’d ever get tired of it.

And sometimes, if he felt daring, he’d run his fingers through the longer fur around Guy’s neck. Just a little bit, revelling in the fact that he was the only one who got to do this. Guy was less prickly than when they’d first met over five years ago, but he still was a bit paranoid about letting people close. 

Sam smiled to himself, resting his head against Guy’s chest, listening to his steady heart beat. Lazy mornings were the best, when they weren’t in a rush to get up, and he could just bask in their closeness for a while. He doubted Guy was in any hurry to get up either, especially after the party they’d been to last night. 

He remembered the first part, the wedding celebration they’d stumbled into and got pulled along into. Not that either of them had complained much, other than Guy fussing that it wasn’t polite, but it had been little more than a token protest. 

It’d been fun too. Not the ceremony part, that was boring, and he spent the time day dreaming about that being him and Guy, staring at each other softly with hearts in their eyes saying ‘I Do’. Which was about as likely as a walvark flying, but it was a nice wistful thought to come back to again and again, rolling it around in his head like a favourite marble. 

The aftermath of the ceremony had been great though. 

Lots of food, lots of music and dancing, lots of laughter. Some sort of sweet alcoholic drink had come out after a while as everyone was swapping stories, and things got a little hazy after that, but not in any sort of bad way. He remembered Guy giving him water at one point and glaring at him until he drank it, as their hosts had told this story about a horrible goose that kept stealing their stuff and-

Sam froze, realising there was something wrong with his left hand. There was something between his fingers, a weird weight. 

He wiggled a little bit, moving his hand so he could see it. There was a ring on his hand, on his middle finger. Sam frowned, turning so he could hold it up to the light and see it better. 

It was a plain silver coloured band. It didn’t look like real silver though, there was a different lustre to it, like the strong metals Guy sometimes worked with when he was inventing things. 

Sam had never been one for rings, not when he’d made his life for so long by being light fingered, and relying on the nimbleness of his fingers. Anything that could catch on something, like most jewellery, was to be avoided. 

Guy didn’t wear jewellery either, for much the same reason. Only in his case it was because of working with machines, not stealing things. 

A stray thought niggled into his brain, and he turned around, grabbing at Guy’s hands and examining them. 

There was a matching silver ring on Guy’s left hand as well. Same finger. 

Sam swallowed, feeling his stomach suddenly turn queasy. 

Wedding bands. There were wedding bands on their fingers. 

He reminded himself that it might be something else, a gift from the wedding party last night. Something innocuous, he could just be jumping to conclusions, based on something he might have fantasied about a time or two before. 

Sam grabbed a pillow and gave a little wiggle slide, pulling the pillow in after himself to keep Guy asleep for a minute or two more. It wouldn’t work for long, but it’d give him a moment to check the room for clues as to what happened. 

After all, it couldn’t be official if there wasn’t a certificate. 

He climbed over Guy then froze, one foot hanging off the edge of the bed as he stared at the piece of paper on the night stand. The _official_ looking piece of paper on the nightstand, that had the words ‘Certificate of Marriage’ up at the top with really fancy looking letters. 

He swallowed again, his stomach rolling as he reached over and picked it up, his eyes automatically going to the two names prominently listed on it. 

**Guy Am-I and Sam Am-I.**

Their signatures were on the bottom, written in sloppy scrawls, but still undeniably theirs. There were two witness signatures below it, along with the officiant that had performed the wedding they’d attended last night. 

Sam’s stomach rolled. Not only had he managed to somehow trick Guy into binding himself to Sam, he’d managed to steal Guy’s last name too. 

Sam set the paper back on the night stand and closed his eyes, fighting the urge to vomit. He’d messed up. He’d messed up _bad_. And this… this could cost him **everything**. 

Sam loved Guy, loved him nearly since the day they’d met, saving Mr. Jenkins. He loved Guy’s surliness, the way he was funny without meaning to, the way he was a soft fluffy marshmallow in the middle and was shy about letting it show. He loved the way that Guy now had more laugh lines around his eyes than frown lines, that Sam was the one who helped put them there. 

He loved just being with Guy, spending time with his best friend, be it doing nothing together or fleeing for their lives from bizarre circumstances. He wanted to do it forever. 

But Guy loved women. 

Guy had had a flirtation for months with Michellee, the two of them exchanging calls and letters while Guy had been on the road with Sam, looking for his mother. It’d faded away, and they still talked. And occasionally a lady would catch Guy’s eye, and Sam would watch him stand taller, _interest_ sparking in his eyes. 

And Sam would step away, try to give Guy some room to do some flirting, but he’d noticed a pattern to what attracted Guy. Women, obviously. Usually close to Guy’s age, within a couple of years. Never anyone young. And always tall, sometimes taller than Guy himself. 

The exact opposite of Sam, who was male, younger, and small. 

Guy’s flirtations never went anywhere, and it hadn’t happened in a while, at least for a couple of years now. But each time, Sam would find himself looking at the women and wondering if this was the one who was going to take Guy away. 

It was inevitable. There was only so long Guy would be willing to put up with him, Sam had known that going in. 

And this? Being bound to a man in legal and holy matrimony? If this didn’t chase Guy off, Sam didn’t know what would. 

Sam had always been careful, so careful not to let anything slip past what could be considered more than buddies, and he’d still managed to flub it all up. 

He tried to remember what happened last night, but it just made his headache hurt more, and he couldn’t remember anything past that dang goose story. 

Sam must have conned Guy into it. There had been a lot of alcohol and he must have taken advantage of Guy being drunk to trick him into this. 

He couldn’t think of any other reasonable explanation. 

Sam sniffed, belatedly realising that he was crying when a tear hit the paper, right above his signature. He shook his head, rubbing his arm across his eyes and set the paper back down on the nightstand.

And really, Guy deserved someone better. Someone who wasn’t an ex-con who still had the habit of bamboozling people into doing what Sam wanted. 

Behind him, Guy realised he wasn’t holding a living body and started reaching out, groping along both sides of the bed for Sam. Sam took a deep breath, ignoring the way it caught in his throat and scooted closer, letting Guy pull him in for a cuddle, curling up with his face pressed against Guy’s ruff, tears pricking at his eyes as he swallowed against the nausea in his stomach. 

He’d just hoped he’d have longer.

* * *

Guy woke up slowly, cracking open an eye to take stock of their surroundings. The light was still dim, either due to some heavy curtains or the earliness of the hour, he wasn’t sure. But Sam was a lightly snoring warm weight in his arms, which meant that it wasn’t time to get up yet quite yet. 

Which was good. He was kind of surprised that he didn’t have a headache with as much as they’d drunk last night, even if his mouth tasted bad. He gave a happy sigh, relaxing back into the bed, rubbing his thumb along the ring on his left hand. 

Husband. He was holding his _husband_. His best friend, his partner, his spouse.

Happiness bubbled up inside of him and he resisted the urge to start laughing in joy. Guy wondered how he’d gotten so yipping lucky.

First in finding and becoming friends with Sam, and then travelling with him for the past five years. Five years of running, screaming, hair-raising escapes, laughter, and adventure. 

It wasn’t the life that Guy would have predicted for himself, but it was his life and he loved it. He never knew what was coming next, but he didn’t fear it with Sam at his side. Between the two of them, they could figure things out. 

And then last night…. Guy smiled to himself, nuzzling the top of Sam’s head. It had been unexpected, but welcome. So very welcome. 

This had just supposed to be a quick stop to catch a train, but then they’d gotten pulled into the wedding, and the party, and the after party. There had been quite a lot of booze, and once they pulled out the local stuff, Guy had switched to water, and tried his best to keep Sam hydrated as well. 

That part hadn’t gone so well. While Guy was happy to stick to the edges of a party and talk with people, everywhere Sam went, he was the life of the party, in the middle of the dancing and the singing. 

And there had been a LOT of dancing and singing, all fuelled by the local drink. The local officiant, who was quite deep into their cups had decreed that they loved weddings and would marry anyone else who felt like it that night. 

As if by summoned by magic, Sam was suddenly at his side, taking Guy’s hand and pulling him forward. Guy had stumbled along, taken by surprise, and it had taken several steps for his brain to catch up and him to dig his heels in, and to check if this was absolutely, 100% what Sam had wanted, that he’d thought it through. 

Sam had lost the smile and the bounce in his step, looking up at Guy completely and utterly sincere. 

“Yes.”

That’s all Sam said. He didn’t caveat it, didn’t ramble reasons, just simply yes with complete certainty. Yes, he’d thought it through. Yes, this is what he wanted. 

Guy looked at the small, genuine smile on Sam’s face, and agreed. 

They’d joined two other nervous and excited couples to be married, Sam almost calm next to him, a glowing, serene air to him that did a lot to soothe Guy’s own nerves. He’d thought about the possibility of marrying Sam before, making their partnership formal and legally binding, but always thought there’d be more to it than simply agreeing. 

He’d certainly thought there’d be more formal wear involved. Ties, if nothing else. Maybe a dress coat. 

Then their turn had arrived, the two of them holding hands in front of the officiant, who read a short verse, then asked who had the rings. Which had been the first time Sam had looked nervous or worried, at the realisation that he didn’t have any rings. 

Which had been when Guy pulled out the rings he’d been carrying around for the past couple of years. And Sam… had just melted, taking the ring from Guy’s hand with an awestruck look.

Guy felt his face heat up as he remembered the next part, what Sam had said when he’d put the ring on Guy’s finger. The only thing that Guy had been able to do was swallow and say ‘Same’, so completely overwhelmed with emotion. 

Then Sam had grabbed his ruff, pulling Guy down and snuzzling him for all he was worth. The poor officiant had tried to announce that they could now kiss the groom, only for Sam to interrupt that they were _snuzzling_ , thank you. 

The officiant had given up with a laugh and pronounced them husband and husband. They’d come back here, and had just enough energy to climb into bed, and fall asleep holding on to each other for once, instead of pretending that they just _happened_ to be sharing a bed and the cuddling was unexpected. 

It was crazy and completely backwards, but so utterly _them_.

He felt Sam stir and wake up, keeping his eyes closed and feigning sleep. He had never told Sam this, but he loved the mornings when he woke up just before Sam, getting to be there as Sam woke up. He knew he tended to be a sleep cuddler, something that had caused him some alarm when they’d first started sharing a bunk, but Sam never seemed to mind. 

Sam made a little noise in the back of his throat, like his head was killing him, then gave a little wiggle, pulling away. Guy couldn’t help the whine that started in the back of his throat at that, pulling Sam closer with a happy growl. Sam rolled with the motion so he was now facing Guy’s chest, fingers softly brushing the pale long fur around Guy’s neck. 

He loved it when Sam did that, the gentle pressure across the base of his throat and collar bones. If anyone else had their hands there, he’d panic, but not with Sam. 

Guy sighed happily and drifted back to sleep for a bit, aware of Sam slipping away and climbing over him. Probably to use the toilet, that had been a lot of liquid Sam had imbibed the night before. They didn’t have anywhere to be, so he didn’t have to worry about moving just yet.

He woke up a while later, registering the pillow in his arms as not his warm cuddly bedmate, and reached out, trying to find him. He could feel Sam move closer to him on the bed, and he pulled his husband back under the covers, nuzzling the top of Sam’s head with a happy hum. Lazy mornings in bed were the best, and they didn’t have anywhere they needed to run off to today. 

It took a moment for him to realise that there was something wrong. Sam was usually a warm pliant weight in his arms, the two of them moulding to each other, but Sam was stiff and tense, curled up into a ball, arms tucked tight against his chest. 

That… wasn’t right. Guy shifted his head, pressing his forehead to Sam’s, checking for a fever. HIs nose brushed Sam’s cheek, and he could smell salt water. Tears?

Guy propped himself up on an arm, looking down at his partner with concern. Sam was curled into a tight ball, making himself as small as possible, limbs pulled in close to his body, head ducked down as if to hide his face. That didn’t disguise the fact that there were tear tracks matting the fur on Sam’s cheeks. 

“Sam?” Guy asked quietly, trying not to panic. At the sound of his voice, Sam trembled, curling himself impossible smaller. Guy looked around the room, trying to figure if something had caused Sam’s strange reaction, if they were in danger that Guy hadn’t noticed. 

The room was dimly lit, but still the same cozy room they’d come into last night, giggling and snuggling. His eyes fell on the marriage certificate laying half off the night stand, like it was going to fall off. 

He reached over Sam and picked it the certificate, sitting up properly in the bed, the blankets pooling in his lap. He read it over, noting the names on there. He hadn’t realised that Sam had taken his name last night, a thing that sent a small tendril of warmth through him. Mom would definitely be pleased by that.

Until he spotted something that hadn’t been on the paper last night. A water drop, just above Sam’s signature. It moved as he tilted the page to get a closer look. 

Not a water drop. Tear drop. 

Guy looked at the certificate of marriage with their names on it, the tear stain down at the bottom, then at Sam’s curled form with the tears on his cheeks, and felt his heart sink, then crumble like so much mud. 

The thought of being married to Guy brought that much dread to his friend. 

“I’m… sorry.” Guy said quietly, staring down at the paper that had brought them both so much joy the previous night. _Drunken_ joy and happiness, he recalled. “I should have realised you were too drunk to realise what you were agreeing to.”

Sam hadn’t meant it, last night. Any of it. That was obvious now, in the sober light of day. Guy should have known better, instead of getting pulled along with it because of wishful thinking on his part. 

He’d forgotten that Sam was an affectionate, _enthusiastic_ drunk. He should have remembered that, given how many times he’d had to talk Sam down from one madcap idea or another after drinking. 

Guy folded up the paper into quarters, each crease neat and precise, and tucked into his hat, where it was both out of sight, and safe. “I’ll find the officiant and have it reversed." He said, fighting to keep his voice even. "I didn’t mean to trap you into anything.” 

He closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing. So stupid of him. Of _course_ Sam wouldn’t want to marry him. Sam was vibrant, full of cheer and life. Guy was just a crusty old used up inventor.

He swallowed. “If you want, we can forget about it, pretend it’s a bad dream brought on by a hangover-?” He offered, daring a glance at Sam, who was staring at Guy with a stricken look on his face. 

Guy glanced away, his stomach rolling. Sam obviously felt uneasy around Guy, now that he knew how Guy felt. 

At the very least, this probably meant an end to sharing a bed and morning snuggles. An end to their easy camaraderie, no more casual touches or affection. 

“I just… hope that you want to keep travelling with me after this.” He said, staring down at the blankets in his lap. That was his worst fear right there, that he’d lose his best friend. He’d wake up one morning to find Sam gone, as abruptly as he’d entered Guy’s life. 

A return to normalcy would probably be the best bet for getting past this, return to patterns they’d long established. With any luck, Sam would fall back asleep and they could forget everything that happened last night. 

Guy pulled the blankets off and scooted to the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb Sam, who was still curled in a ball, looking very tiny and scared. Sam sat up as Guy moved, his back against the headboard, as far from Guy as he could get without leaving the bed. 

“I’m going to see what’s around for breakfast.” Guy tried to scrounge a small smile, which he didn’t think entirely worked. “Want anything?” 

“No.” Sam’s voice was soft, nearly a whisper.

Guy nodded, half expecting the answer. Sam probably didn't want anything from him right now, except to get away from Guy. “That’s fine. I’ll bring you some water, alright?” 

He just needed a moment to breathe. And give Sam a chance to run if he needed it. Sam could always find Guy later if he wanted to, of that Guy had no doubt. He just didn’t want Sam to feel any more trapped than he probably already was. 

“... No.” Sam said, his voice a little stronger. 

Guy paused, his feet hanging over the edge of the bed, glancing at Sam. Sam had a look on his face like he was struggling to say something. 

“Okay-?” Guy ventured. It was just a glass of water. 

Sam shook his head. “ _No._ ” He said again, his voice cracking. Sam faltered a moment, mouth moving silently, but nothing coming out before giving Guy a wide eyed imploring look, before holding his arms out towards Guy. 

Guy hesitated a moment, then returned the gesture, slightly startled when Sam practically sent him backwards with as hard as he impacted against Guy, a foot to the stomach reminding him that his bladder was extremely full from last nights drinking. Sam’s skinny arms wrapped themselves around Guy's chest, clinging to him as if he were a life preserver. 

Guy sighed, carefully resting a hand on Sam’s back, feeling the fine tremors that were running through his small frame. “It’s fine, Sam.” He tried to soothe. “It’s okay.” 

It wasn’t Sam’s fault that he didn’t feel the same as Guy. It’s why Guy hadn’t said anything about how he felt before last night, he had known that. Guy had just forgotten that fact while caught up in the excitement last night.

“No.” Sam shook his head, face rubbing against Guy’s shoulder. “It’s not okay. Not while you look like your heart just _broke_.”

Guy glanced away, throat clicking as he swallowed, unable to speak for a moment. “Not your fault.” He finally got out, feeling like he had gravel stuck in the back of his throat. His feelings weren’t anyone’s responsibility but his own. 

“I don’t remember much of last night. I woke up and thought… I thought I had _conned_ you.” Sam’s fingers tightened, digging into Guy’s fur. “Tricked you somehow.” 

Guy snorted. “Tricked me into doing something I wanted to do?” He asked, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. 

“No.” Sam shook his head. “Into something _I_ wanted to do.”

Hope warred in his chest, replacing the sick leaden feeling. 

“I thought you were just travelling with me until you found someone better. Until you found some pretty lady to marry and settle down with. Have kids.” Sam’s voice cracked on the last word, pressing his face against Guy’s chest, making his words almost completely unintelligible. “Thought you'd be mad you got stuck with me instead of a woman.”

“Okay, first of all, that’s an extremely heteronormative point of view.” Guy frowned. There was more to life than having kids. And while he liked kids, he liked being an uncle and able to hand them _back_. “And second off.” Guy sighed. “You didn’t look at the ring, did you?” 

Sam stared at him, clearly confused and shook his head. Guy flicked his fingers, motioning towards the titanium ring on Sam’s left hand. Sam looked down at the ring, then up at Guy, and back at the ring, before slowly pulling it off and examining it, his legs tightening around Guy’s middle, as if afraid Guy was going to take off running. 

He could see the moment Sam realised there was writing on the inside, angling the ring so the light caught the text. “Green… Eggs and Ham.” Sam slowly read out loud, his eyes going wide, jaw dropping as he stared at up at Guy. 

Guy reluctantly pulled his ring off his finger, having to twist it to get it off, then handed it to Sam. “It’s what brought us together.” He confessed as Sam cradled the rings in his hand, reading the same inscription inside both the rings. “I made them years ago.” 

He’d created the rings from scraps of titanium alloy from the aeroplane he’d been building with friends they’d just met, feeling clever and proud of himself for it. 

Until his friend wanted to know when the wedding date was, and it felt like the world had spun on its axis, righting itself into a new configuration. The sudden, lurching realisation that he wouldn’t mind them being wedding rings. Not if it was with Sam. 

But Sam he wasn’t interested in anyone. It wasn’t that Sam was young and naive, he flirted as naturally a speaking and had a selection of dirty jokes that could make Guy choke on his tongue, Sam just didn’t care about that sort of stuff. They’d traveled together for years and Guy had yet to see Sam take a shine to anyone at all. 

So he’d hidden the rings away, until last night. 

“You said last night, that you’d never known that a person could be home before.” Guy said quietly, staring at the empty space on his finger where the ring had rested for mere hours, but already felt naked without it. “And I realised that you were right. I could wake up in a thousand different places on a thousand different mornings, and they’d all be home, as long as it’s alongside you.” 

What form that took, he didn’t really care. 

Sam made a noise in the back of his throat that Guy couldn’t quite interpret, half squeak, half sigh. “You’re my home too.” Sam said quietly. “I don’t want to forget, or reverse it. I want you, and adventures, and snuggly mornings. I want breakfasts, and dinners, and to be by your side when we’re old and grey. I want it all with you. I just didn’t think you’d want it with _me_.”

“I do.” Guy said, then huffed in amusement. 

“I do too.” Sam grinned, then held one of the rings out to Guy. It was the smaller of the pair, Sam’s ring. “Put it on me?” Sam looked hopeful.

“Of course.” Guy fought a grin, his heart beating happily in his chest. Sam made an excited squeal as he held his hand out for Guy to put the ring on his middle finger. Guy did so, ignoring the way that both of their hands were shaking slightly. “You do know that I love you?” He ventured. 

“I got that impression.” Sam smirked back, looking amused. “And you do know it’s mutual, right? I love you too.” 

“I do now.” Guy felt better for hearing the words, some of the residual worry he’d been feeling fading away. 

“Hey.” Sam tilted his head, giving Guy a reassuring smile and Guy felt himself relax further. Sam had always been disturbingly good at reading him. “I do love you, Guy I-Am. So very much.”

Guy felt his face turn red, and he scooped up his husband, pressing his face against Sam’s skinny neck. Sam laughed, wrapping his arms around Guy’s head, snuzzling his cheek.

When they pulled away, Guy silently held his hand out for Sam to put the ring back on his hand, which Sam did, practically as incandescent has he had been last night. 

“Do we kiss?” Sam asked, grinning up at Guy with eyes that sparkled with delight.

Guy quickly put a finger on Sam’s lips. “Yes.” He said, trying not to laugh as Sam went cross-eyed, trying to look at Guy's hand. “However, I have a suggestion first.”

“Okay?” Sam looked somewhat confused. 

“We break to use the bathroom. Brush teeth so our mouths don’t taste like death, grab a couple of glasses of water and some pain killers, then come back to bed to cuddle for a few hours.” Guy suggested. And maybe kiss a bit, if that was something Sam was into. He didn’t want to presume. 

Sam’s eyes went big, followed by a giant, happy grin. “You, sir.” He tapped Guy’s chest. “Are a man of excellent decisions.” 

“Course I am.” Guy grinned back. “I married you, didn’t I?”

* * *

They didn’t leave until lunchtime, both of them very ruffled and pleased. Sam kept wanting to press his fingers to his lips, the echo of many many delightful kisses buzzing on his skin. 

They’d talked too, in the comfort and security of the blankets, about why they’d both thought the other wouldn’t be interested, why they’d both thought they were unloveable. It had been awkward and uncomfortable, but he felt better for it too. More stable about things. Even after five years with Guy, there where always new things to learn about his partner.

“Ah, about last night.” The officiant greeted them as they headed towards the train station, side by side like they usually walked. The rings were off their fingers, tied to string around their necks and hidden in their fur, so they didn’t lose them. Guy had the certificate in his briefcase, in an envelope to mail to his parents for safe keeping. 

Guy had already warned Sam that his family was probably going to want to throw a party for them if they got close to Stovepipe. And to expect a lot of teasing about accidentally eloping. 

Sam was looking forward to it, in all honesty. He liked the Am-Is, and now he was a part of them. He had the legal certificate and everything. 

“I… Realise that there were copious amounts of alcohol involved last night.” The officiant said, looking nervous. “If you wish to undo what was done-”

“We’re good.” Guy shook his head, an easy confidence in his manner that made Sam feel more at ease. 

“They always say to marry your best friend.” Sam grinned. “We’ve been partners for years, this was just-”

“-Making it official.” Guy finished the thought with a small smile. “Thank you though.” 

The officiant smiled and relaxed. “Then I shall wish you safe journey. And please, feel free to stop by again at any time.” 

“Thanks!” Sam waved, taking Guy’s hand that wasn’t holding the briefcase, and tugging him away. Guy looked startled for a moment, then his face softened, his pace matching Sam’s easily. “But not for a little while, we’re going on our honeymoon!” 

Someplace warm, they’d both agreed. Past that, they didn’t have a destination. 

“Should we pick up something to eat before we get on the train?” Guy suggested. 

Sam beamed at him. “It’s like you know me.” 

Guy chuckled dryly in return, looking happy and content to be out wandering around with Sam. 

Sam grinned and walked with a bounce in his step. He had tomorrow morning to look forward to, his first and second favourite parts of the day. And tomorrow, there’d be kissing involved with the cuddling too. 

Maybe a bit tonight too, as both of them fell asleep, not having to disguise the fact that both of them wanted to snuggle. 

In the meantime though, he had a lot of other favourite parts of the day to experience, all of them with Guy. 

-fin-

**Author's Note:**

> Sam is asexual here, but not aromantic. (no interest in sex, yes interested in romantic bonds) Not really sure about Guy, possibly moronsexual. (attracted to morons)  
>   
> This was originally meant to be done by Valentine's Day, but that didn't happen. I do however now have a certificate stating I am now a trained Community Emergency Response Team (CERT) member.  
>   
> Thanks to [Shelligator](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shelligator/pseuds/Shelligator) for chatting with me when I got stuck one scene from done, Gullwhacker for the word 'heteronormative' ~~(IF GUY IS GOING TO SAY HE'S A FEMINIST, THEN BY GOLLY HE'S GONNA BE ONE)~~ and the [Green Eggs and Ham CAFE](https://chaoflaka.tumblr.com/post/190916702082/hey-guys-just-so-you-know-that-i-have-made-a) discord for voting that Sam 'steals' Guy's last name.


End file.
